


runaways

by basementmixtape



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Coming Out, Compulsory Heterosexuality, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Found Family, Gay Mike Wheeler, Gay Will Byers, Getting Together, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Period-Typical Homophobia, Soft Boys, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, byler, nothing bad just pot, road trip fic, runaways - Freeform, soft
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:13:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22353154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/basementmixtape/pseuds/basementmixtape
Summary: Under the cover of night one rainy summer, Mike Wheeler and Will Byers vanish.
Relationships: Will Byers/Mike Wheeler
Comments: 4
Kudos: 46





	1. rain

**Author's Note:**

> this is based off of the song “move to san francisco” by circa waves. 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNINGS (will be listed chapter by chapter, here are a few major ones now): abuse, homophobia, depression, ptsd, drug use, drinking, internalized homophobia.

Will looked at the television, trying and failing to ignore the burning heat of the boy beside him. It was stupid, being this aware of your best friend, but he couldn't help it, all he could focus on was the warmth pouring off of Mike's skin, his pale hand running over the soft blanket they were sharing over and over and over again.

Mike had shown up out of the blue, soaked to his skin and sobbing so hard he couldn't speak. His black hair was still dripping down the back of his neck, although Will had at least tried to dry him off, wrapping him in blanket after blanket and going still when he dropped all of them to throw his arms around his shoulders. They had stood in his kitchen clinging to each other like two boys set adrift in a storm, both of them trembling. Mike still hadn't spoken, staring blankly at the movie Will put on, his dark eyes reflecting the actors on the screen, turning black to blue and yellow and crimson, the fine curve of an actress's nose, the sharp line of an actor's jaw, all in his eyes. They drifted over to Will, and he noticed something for the first time.

A fresh, rapidly darkening bruise around his left eye. Another, on his cheek below it, a third, a vivid handprint wrapped around his wrist.

"Will, I cant stay here anymore." He stared at him blankly, trying to process what Mike was saying. "I can't, it's killing me."

"What do you mean you can't? What's going on, Mike?" He shook his head, fresh tears shining in his eyes.

"You're leaving soon, you're going away, and I won't be able to stay here once you're gone, I won't-" Will cut him off, trembling a little, reaching for him with shaking hands.

"Mike, you're scaring me."

"I want to leave."

" _What?_ "

"I want to go somewhere else, somewhere happy, I can't stay here. I'll die if I stay here."

"Where do you think could be better than here? Mike, we're fifteen we can't just get up and move-"

"Why not?"

"What do you mean why not? Mike, we can't work, we don't have a car, we don't have money-"

"That doesn't mean we can't leave." Will stared at him, wide eyed.

"What are you suggesting?" He held his hand with damp fingers, his clothes still soaked, his hair still dripping, and he smiled.

"We just leave, Will."

"Mike, what happened? We can fix it-"

"My dad- he- I- it doesn't matter, Will." He felt all the blood drain from his face, Mike dropped his hand. "If you don't want to come I can go by myself."

"You can't just go alone."

"Yeah? Why not?" Will gaped at him, and he stood, pacing a little. "We can thumb it part of the way, bring our bikes, pack waterproof clothes and some food, we could just go somewhere else, it would be so easy. I could do that alone."

"Mike, this is crazy. You can sleep here tonight and we'll talk about it tomorrow-"

"I want to leave. Tonight."

"It's pounding rain, please, just think about this! I can't leave my mom, my brother-"

"Will," Mike stopped pacing, crouching in front of him with his hands clasped and his eyes tearful. "Please come with me."

"I can't believe you're asking me to do this." Will stood, walking past him, pacing in the kitchen on silent sock-feet, fidgeting with the bottom of his t-shirt anxiously. "If you make me choose something like this I'm never going to forgive you."

"Will, I can't stay here anymore."

"Not even for one day?"

"I can go without you-"

"I don't want you to go at all!" Will's eyes went wide, he caught his breath, his heartbeat pounding through him. "Mike, I can't choose something like this."

"Will, I have to leave now if I'm going, before they get a chance to drag me back home. I don't like doing this to you but I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I didn't try to get you to come." He closed his eyes, stepping back, his wet curls hiding his face. "I'm sorry."

"Mike..." Will started pacing again, wringing his hands nervously, his silent footsteps a sharp contrast to his loud whispers.

"Are you coming with me?" He sounded so desperate, so small and scared and alone. Will shut his eyes tightly, like they do in the movies before they take a shot of something hard.

"Yeah, alright," He felt like he was signing his own death warrant. "I'll come with you."


	2. bubblegum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Mike meet the Strangers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, writing a road trip fic with no understanding of american geography:

They got ready to leave silently. Will felt strangely numb, detached, like none of it was happening to him. He traced a fingertip over one of his old drawings, pinned up to the wall. He could smell his mother's cigarettes on the air, the light was soft and yellow, all the cheap countertops and worn chairs, all of it belonged to them. This was his home, it had always been his home. How strange, that it could change in one night.

"I got some clothes out of your room, I grabbed what looked warm, and the things you like." Mike had two bags, backpacks, apparently he packed his before he left. He took a lighter off the counter, two lighters, sliding them into his pocket. He opened the cupboards. "Would Jonathan and Joyce be alright if we-"

"They'll be worried about more than a few cans of food, move, Mike." They both ignored the hostility crackling off of him, grabbing the food that looked the heartiest, cans of thick stew, sleeves of crackers, bags of mixed nuts, granola bars, Jonathan's bags of jerky. "I'm going to change." He shoved past Mike, going into his room and taking a steadying breath. He grabbed a mostly empty sketchbook and a pack of coloured pencils, his regular pencils, a sharpener, an eraser. He slid them all into a waterproof freezer bag, and set them aside to bring with him. He got dressed with that same feeling of dazed unreality, tugging on a pair of sturdy jeans, a t-shirt, a flannel shirt, a thick sweater, and long wool socks. He fished both of his rain jackets out of his closet, and a pair of warm waterproof boots that were light enough they wouldn't annoy him on the trek ahead.

He grabbed his art supplies and walked out with his boots on and the jackets over his arm. Mike was still packing food away, taking something else too, a pocketknife from the drawer, and the axe Jon used to cut wood for Castle Byers, small enough it fit in his backpack. Will grabbed two water bottles and filled them both, putting his things in his bag and looking at Mike carefully.

"Where are we going?"

"I wanna move to San Francisco." Will peered up at him, his hair was finally dry for the most part, and the rain outside was slowing.

"Why San Francisco?"

"Something about it just feels different. It feels like a place for happy people." He looked so miserable then that Will almost felt bad for not saying yes to him immediately. "I think everything is ready, are you good to go?"

"Yeah, just, give me a second." He stood in the kitchen for a moment, wandering to the living room, running light fingertips over the furniture he had grown up with, the arm of the couch, the coffee table, the television they'd all watched movies on. It was oddly freeing, saying goodbye to everything he'd ever known. He walked down the hallway his brother and Nancy had covered in blood and set alight, past years of sprinting around on clumsy feet with Mike, with Lucas, with Dustin. He remembered being six years old, him and Mike curling up under the kitchen table, draping a blanket over the top of it and calling it their hide-away, he remembered the crayon he'd taken to the walls when he was four, the corner he tripped on, smashing into the ground and breaking his nose. This was his childhood.

Before he reached the end of the hall, Jonathan's bedroom door opened.

He stood, bleary-eyed and blinking in the dark glow of the television Will left on, shirtless and ruffled in his pyjama bottoms. His hair was standing up in every direction, he looked so tired.

"Where are you going?" He asked sleepily, and Will felt his throat get thick, voice heavier.

"I can't sleep, I thought a walk might clear my head." Jonathan nodded, one hand hooked on the doorframe, hanging off it a little.

"Just, don't be gone too long, alright?"

"Alright." Will had to blink hard to keep himself from crying. "I love you."

"I love you too, kid." Jonathan hesitated, probably sensing something was off, his dark stare was clouded with sleep, but he had always been perceptive. Will forced a smile, and the tension in his shoulders eased, suspicion dying a false death. "Goodnight."

The door closed with a sharp click behind him, and Will felt like his heart was going to snap clean in two. He walked back to the kitchen, tears finally streaming down his cheeks. Mike was standing by the kitchen chairs, looking completely helpless.

He reached toward him with pale hands. "Will-"

"Shut up, Mike. Let's go."Will pulled the backpack on, wiping at his eyes furiously. The clock on the wall read 01:07, and their night was only getting started.

"I'm sorry."

Will looked at him darkly, his hands trembling almost as much as his voice.

"No, you're not."   
  
  


-

They biked for hours. Mike had stolen from his parents, two hundred dollars of dirty money he kept stashed inside his socks and the pockets of his coat, but they weren't going to waste that on a hotel somewhere, even though they were both exhausted. The rain was gone, but the sky was still a bleak grey, desolate and icy as Will's mood. His watch said it was seven in the morning, and he had never been more miserable.

They were halfway through Indiana, they had bought a map and a compass from a gas station they passed, marking their route with Will's coloured pencils on the side of the road. Mike's bruises were a dark, violent shade of purple, his hair a mess of tangled curls from riding his bike. They walked down the side of the highways with their bikes beside them and their thumbs up to passing cars, only the ones going west.

A rather large van pulled over at around eight in the morning, a tiny girl in the drivers seat. There were two passengers, a boy with sharp blue eyes, and another girl, her hair dyed a cotton-candy pink.

"Where are you two headed?"

"West, out of Indiana." Mike said, talking to the driver and giving a nervous smile. Her hair was electric blue, her eyes coffee brown.

"That's where we're headed too, throw your bikes in the back." The boy got out, he really was just a boy, a teenager with scruffy brown hair. He opened the back of the van and helped them with their bikes. He didn't seem particularly strong, and when he spoke to the girls in the van, he had a thick accent.

"Should they ride in the back with me or with Maudie?"

"With you, Isaac." He gestured for them to get in, and they did. The van looked full, blankets and pillows, tents in bags, coolers at their feet and bags in their laps. "What are your names, strangers?" The driver asked.

"Mike, and Will." Will said, gesturing as he spoke. "What's yours?"

"I'm Dina, that's Maudie," The pink haired girl gave a little wave. "And the little man beside you is Isaac." They got on the road, music playing low, something punky and angry that Jonathan probably would've liked. "What kind of music are you into?" She turned it up a little, and he knew who it was immediately.

"This is Sex Pistols, right?" She grinned. "I like The Clash, Bowie, The Smiths, The Cure, Souxsie and the Banshees, everything, it's all good." He leaned back in his seat a little. "The Runaways are my favourite right now." Mike looked at him sharply, eyes going wide. "I guess I like the irony." Maudie laughed, she had a sharp, startling laugh—like a witch.

"I like this kid, you hot for Joan Jett or something?" She wasn't buckled, leaning over the seats, looking impish and strange in the morning light.

"Put in The Runaways tape, Maudie, for the kid." Dina ordered, and she obliged, putting on Queens of Noise. The tape started in the middle of Neon Angels on the Road to Ruin, and Will stared out the window, resting his chin in the palm of his hand. Mike was uncomfortably stiff beside him, looking absolutely drained, dark eyes painfully alert. "You don't look like the kind of guy who listens to seventies heavy rock girl groups, to be honest." Dina glanced back at him, and he smiled faintly.

"My brother got me into all of it, he's the music nerd of the family." His smile felt forced, fixed. Mike's fingertips brushed the back of his hand in a way that was probably supposed to be comforting. Everywhere he touched him, Will felt like his nerves were being set on fire. The song ended, and the next one started playing. I Love Playing With Fire. Mike looked down at him for a little too long, and Will felt his face burn. He looked away quickly, meeting eyes with Maudie, who arched an eyebrow. He felt himself get even more red. "I assume you approve, then?"

"Oh yeah, so why are you running away from home?" Maudie asked brightly, wincing when Dina elbowed her in the ribs. Will went white, so did Mike. In a rare moment of bravery, Will responded without thinking.

"Look at his face, why do you think we're running away from home?" The tension was so thick you could've cut it with a knife.

"Stupid question, Maudie." Issac muttered. "Where are you going? What's the final destination?"

"San Francisco." Mike said softly.

"By bike? You’ll never make it.”

"It's not like we have anywhere else to be." He said sharply, and Issac shrugged, grinning widely. “And San Francisco isn’t going anywhere.”

"Fair enough." He nudged Mike half-heartedly. "You two get some shut eye, you both look like zombies." Will flinched, then steadied himself, flushing again, crimson.

"Alright, not gonna argue with that." Mike smiled, and leaned against Will. Isaac tossed them a blanket, handing Will a pillow for the window, and they were out in minutes, curled together in the backseat of a strangers van, an unknowable future unfolding in front of them.


	3. scarlet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jonathan makes a disturbing discovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mentions of abuse / homophobia
> 
> im not super happy with this chapter but it’s the best you’re getting from me tbh

Jonathan woke up at eight-thirty in the morning. He noticed Will's empty bed at nine.

It was summer, so the kids were all sleeping in everyday as late as they could manage. Will's bed wasn't just empty, it was made, neatly. His clothes were strewn all over his room, his sketchbook was gone from his desk, the lights were still on, the way they had been last night when he saw Will dressed at one in the morning. He tried to swallow his panic, going to the phone, calling Dustin's house first.

" _Hello, Henderson Residence_."

"Hello, Mrs. Henderson, I'm so sorry to bother you, I was just wondering if Will is over at your place right now."

" _Will? I haven't seen him, just a second-DUSTY!_ " She shrieked, angling the phone away from her probably by the way it was muffled. " _Is Will over? Mhm, sorry, Jonathan, he isn't here._ "

"Thank you." He hung up, shaking a little. He tried the Sinclairs, same thing, no, sorry, Will isn't here. Finally he tried the Wheelers.

" _Hello, Wheeler Residence._ " Karen sounded strange, her voice thin and watery.

"Hi, Mrs. Wheeler, it's Jonathan. I was just wondering if Will is at your house?" He could feel himself getting more and more terrified by the second, especially when she didn't respond immediately.

" _He isn't here, but it's the strangest thing,_ " She laughed, and he felt a sharp jolt of anxiety. " _We can't find Mike anywhere._ " Her laughter cut off, and he realized she was crying. " _I was just about to call you, but look at that, they're missing together._ "

"I'm going to call Hopper now, thank you, Mrs. Wheeler. I'll tell him about Mike, alright?"

"You're a good kid, Jonathan. I hope you find our boys.” She hung up the phone, and he did the same, immediately dialling Hopper, pacing as much as the short cord would allow while it rang.

" _Jim Hopper speaking._ "

"Will and Mike are missing." He heard a loud crash on the other line.

" _What?_ "

"Will and Mike." Jonathan's voice broke. "I can't find them."

-

"How can they just be gone?" All the kids were at their house, along with anyone else they managed to drag over, Robin and Steve among them. Jonathan was worrying Nancy even more, he could tell, but he couldn't stop himself. El looked devastated, sitting on the couch with her hands on her knees, perfectly still. Max was furious, Dustin and Lucas coldly determined to find them both. Joyce was rummaging in the kitchen anxiously when her voice brought all of them to attention.

"There's food missing from the cupboard." She pointed to the clear empty spaces. "Canned things, crackers, jerky, granola bars. My water bottles are gone, so are the backpacks we use for hikes." Hopper shook his head.

"They wouldn't just leave."

"Their bikes are gone. Will's sketchbook is gone, so are his good pencils, Jonathan said he looked like he was dressed to keep warm, in those hiking boots he hated. This wasn't a surprise, Hop, our boys _planned_ this."

"Why would they leave in the middle of the night?" Max looked painfully confused, sitting on the arm of the couch, hair messy.

"They didn't want anyone to follow them." Steve's voice was low. "Maybe something happened?"

"They would've told us." Dustin said heatedly, but Max shook her head.

"Will and Mike are different. They've got a weird, creepy bond, anything happens they report to each other. Will said they're like blood brothers, they did a ritual when they were little and cut their fingers in the backyard and put the cuts together and swore to always stick with each other." She slumped against the couch. "Holy shit, they actually ran away together."

"No, they wouldn't-"

"And on halloween last year, tell me I wasn't the only one who saw them curled in a corner making pinkie promises. They're always whispering with their heads together."

"That's bullshit, Max." Lucas said hotly, and she raised an eyebrow.

"I'm right, and El is going to prove it." El looked up, and nodded quickly.

"Just need a cloth." She jerked a hand toward the television and the channel changed to buzzing static. Max gave her one of Joyce's scarves, helping her tie it over her eyes. Robin watched, clearly confused by the proceedings.

El sat ramrod straight in front of the t.v., face all pinched and serious. After a moment of stillness, she finally spoke.

"I see them." She expression twisted. "Mike is hurt, big bruises. People are with them, girls, one with blue hair, one with pink. A boy with brown hair, they're talking, Will, he-" She flinched. "Will?" A long pause, and she tore off the blindfold, eyes huge.

"What happened?" Jonathan took the scarf from her, and she just stared, clearly dazed. A line of scarlet dripping from her nose.

"He looked right at me." She shook her head, eyebrows furrowed. "And then I couldn't see them anymore." She was white as a sheet.

"Will saw you in the dark place?" Max asked. She nodded, lips parting before she spoke.

"No one has ever seen me before, not like that." She stood shakily. "I did get one thing."

"What did you get, kid?" Hop asked.

"The girl with the pink hair said that they're never gonna make it to San Francisco, and Mike got angry."

"San Francisco?" Dustin looked disturbed.

"Will said San Francisco will wait as long as it takes them to get there and they laughed. Mike had very, very bad bruises, they were on his face and his wrists, everything else was covered." She looked angry. "Do you think they left because someone hurt him?"

"Yes." Nancy said with perfect certainty. "That's exactly why they left."

"What are you talking about?" Jonathan studied her carefully, but she wouldn't look at him, her blue eyes focused on the coffee table.

"I heard them last night, Mike and my dad, they usually just get in harmless arguments, shouting matches about whatever dad is angry about that day, but this one was bad." She closed her eyes, but she didn't stop talking. "I ignored it until I heard yelling, and when I went out to stop them, my dad was beating the shit out of him. I had to pull them apart, he kept screaming things at him, and while I tried to get mom to take him upstairs," She shrugged helplessly, her eyes still closed, like she couldn't look at them. "I guess Mike just took off."

"Why would be hit him? You said they usually just argue-" She cut Lucas off.

"It's because Mike is gay." She finally opened her eyes, meeting his shocked gaze fiercely. "It's because he came out to him, and my dad tried to kill him for it." She didn't stop, shaking. "He said he'd rather have a death in the family than a fag."

"Mike told me." El said solemnly. "He cried a lot, he was scared, I told him we could keep pretending if it would keep him safe."

"Well, that explains motive nice and neatly." Hopper looked a little pale. Robin had her hand over her mouth. Jonathan remembered a conversation he'd had with Will, and hated himself a little when he made the decision to share it.

"Will is gay too." His mom dropped a plate, and it shattered. "He told me. They could have literally run away together like Bonnie and Clyde or something."

"I let him have so many boys sleepover and you never told me?" Jonathan cracked a small smile.

"He asked me not to, but considering the circumstances he doesn't get a say."

**Author's Note:**

> let me know if you enjoyed the chapter, kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!


End file.
